A Moment in Time

by Bertrice Small

  "Einion!" she half sobbed. "Oh, Einion!" and she sat up, relief pouring through her bruised body.

  The big man enfolded her in his bearlike embrace and hugged her hard. "Lady! My lady Wynne. Thank God we have found you at last!"

  "But you do not look like yourself," Wynne said, peering hard at him, "and yet I should know that fiery head of yours and your dear voice anywhere."

  Einion chuckled. "My lord Madoc is a master of disguises, my lady Wynne. You did not recognize him in the repulsive Tovi, did you?"

  "Nay," said Wynne softly, "I did not."

  "My skin has been painted with bark and berry juices to resemble that of an older man, a man who spends half his year in a large town," Einion explained. "The shape of my nose has been altered by the use of clay. I hunch and I learned to modify my walk. I even changed my voice. It is a good disguise, my lady Wynne, is it not?"

  "Very good, Einion," she replied, and then she looked at the other man in the wagon. "Is it really you, Madoc? I cannot see you through this deception. Yet for a moment in the hall, I thought I saw your eyes." She was beginning to shiver.

  Madoc reached up, and drawing down a small length of soft wool, wrapped it about her shoulders. " ‘Tis I, dearling, truly. I dare not remove my camouflage and restore myself to my own identity until we are well away from this place. This Saxon thegn would not be pleased to learn he has restored you to your own people. He seems to gain great pleasure in shaming you."

  "This place is Aelfdene, my lord. It has been my home for three years now," Wynne said, and he immediately caught the reproving tone in her voice. "I have lived here longer than I did at Raven's Rock." Then she looked at Einion. "Where is my daughter?"

  "With her nursemaid in the Great Chamber. He says he will give her to me in the morning."

  "I will not leave here without Averel," Wynne said firmly.

  "Averel, " Madoc said. "I thought we had agreed to call a daughter Angharad."

  "Averel is not your daughter, my lord," Wynne answered him, and wondered why it was she felt a small bitter satisfaction in telling him this. His arrival here was certainly more than fortuitous, but the timing was all wrong and it rankled her.

  Madoc's eyes darkened. "Is she the daughter of that animal who calls himself the lord of this place?"

  "Nay," Wynne told him scornfully, "she is not. Her father was Eadwine Aethelhard; he was Aelfdene's former master. He died ten months ago in a hunting accident. He sacrificed himself to save the life of his eldest son, that pig who now rules in this hall."

  "And my child? Did you safely deliver my child?" Madoc asked her.

  "I did. You have a son, my lord. A fine, healthy boy. I called him Arvel, not Anwyl, for he was a child to be wept over in our captivity," Wynne told him. A captivity, she thought bitterly, that might have ended sooner if you had but come for us before now.

  "Where is my son?" Madoc demanded. Indeed, she seemed far more concerned for her daughter than she was for her son.

  "Did you not hear Caddaric Aethelmaere in the hall, my lord? He has taken my son and sold him to Ruari Ban, who is, as we speak, bringing my innocent child to your brother at Cai!" Her eyes were filled with tears. "Why did you wait all this time to come for us, my lord? Why? I waited and I waited, and I prayed and prayed that you would rescue us; but you did not come. It was as if we had never existed for you, Madoc."

  "That is unfair, Wynne," he told her, his own anger beginning to rise. She had had a child by another man, and from the tone of her voice when she had spoken of that man, she had cared deeply for him. Did she still love her Saxon? Had she ever loved him?

  "You did not come!" Wynne repeated.

  "We sought you from the very beginning, dearling," he began. Then he patiently explained to her as best he could his desperate search for her and for their child. "Until we could be sure that you even remained in the country," Madoc told her, "we could not be certain that we would ever find you. For the past eight months now Einion and I, positive you were still in this land, have traveled the Mercian countryside. We used Worcester as the center of our radius and stopped at each and every manor we came to, searching for you, Wynne."

  "Almost three years have passed," Wynne said low. "Three years to the day, Madoc."

  "Three years in which you managed to make yourself a new life and bear another man's child," he retorted, his anger spilling over. "How is it this Caddaric could steal my son away and you not even know of it, Wynne? Did you give my son as much love and care as you have given to your Saxon's daughter?"

  Her hand flashed out, making hard contact with his face. "Do not dare to criticize my abilities as a mother, my lord. Where were you when Arvel was born? I was here at Aelfdene, and my son's life was saved by the very Saxon whose daughter I later bore. Arvel came into the world, the cord wrapped about his little neck. I had tried to bear him alone, without help, for I was frightened and proud, and yet angry that you had not found us. Eadwine heard my cries and helped me to birth Arvel. Your son?" She said scornfully. "He may have come from your seed, but it was Eadwine Aethelhard who was father to him! It was Eadwine Aethelhard who claimed him legally for his own; who watched him take his first steps; who sat up with me when he had a fever; whom Arvel called Da."

  He was staggered by her vitriol as much as by the words she spat at him.

  "You must not quarrel now," Einion said. "Not now that you have finally found each other. If you do, then you allow Brys of Cai the final victory over you both."

  "Did you love your Saxon?" Madoc asked low.

  "Aye," she answered him, "but not as I love you."

  Love. She had said love! Not loved, but love! "Dare I hope," he said, "that you love me yet?"

  "I thought I did," Wynne answered him honestly, "but the man I loved was someone I knew three years ago. I am your wife, Madoc, and that has not changed. Still, we must get to know each other again. I am not the same Wynne of Gwernach as you knew three years ago. I am older, and I hope wiser." She turned to speak to Einion once more. "In the morning when we have regained my daughter's custody," she said, "we must hurry directly to Cai. God only knows what evil Brys intends for my son, but we must save him!"

  "What of your belongings?" Einion asked her.

  "Caddaric does not have a good head for wine," Wynne said with a smile. "His women will see he is carried to his bed, and he will sleep until the morrow is half gone. I will be able to get my things and Averel's as well."

  The dawn had scarcely broken when Eadgyth crept to the peddler's wagon, calling softly as she neared it. "Wynne. Wynne! Are you there?"

  Wynne stepped down from the cart and embraced her friend. "It is all right, Eadgyth," she said. "I am well."

  "But how can that be?" Eadgyth fretted. "I do not understand how you can be so cheerful after what happened to you last night. It was horrible! I will never, ever forgive my husband for his bestial treatment of you, Wynne. Never!"

  Wynne put a comforting arm about Eadgyth and replied, "Do you remember how I always told you that my husband would one day come for me? Well, he has."

  "What?" Eadgyth's blue eyes were huge with her surprise, and then she said, "Oh, Wynne! My poor, poor Wynne! This terrible night just past has driven you mad!"

  "No, no, Eadgyth! I am as sane as you are," Wynne reassured her. "Boda, the peddler, is my own servant Einion, well-disguised, I assure you, for even I did not recognize him at first. As for his son, Tovi, 'tis my own lord, Madoc, and he is equally well-disguised. I will not go into the details of this, Eadgyth, but you must swear to me that you will not tell the others. None has been the friend to me that you have, dearest Eadgyth. I would not leave you to worry about me. Know that I leave Aelfdene today for my own dear land of Wales. I am going home, Eadgyth, as I always knew I would."

  Tears of happiness for her friend slipped down Eadgyth's face. "I will miss you," she told Wynne. "The others have always been pleasant companions, but you have been my friend. I will miss Arvel and Averel too. Now there will be no
children at Aelfdene."

  "Why did you not tell me about Arvel?" Wynne queried Eadgyth.

  "I did not know until last night myself," Eadgyth replied. "Do you think I would have ever allowed Caddaric to do such a thing if it had been in my power to stop him? Had I known his intent, I would have hidden Arvel from him. I went immediately to the serfs' village after I left the hall last night, and I learned that Caddaric had sold Gytha to Ruari Ban as well. She was to go with little Arvel and continue his care. Where has the slaver taken them?"

  "To the castle of my brother-in-law, Brys of Cai. He is the most evil man in Christendom, Eadgyth. God only knows what plans he has for my son. We leave for Cai as soon as I have gathered my things and Averel's."

  "Come now back to the house," Eadgyth said. "Berangari and I have packed everything, but perhaps you will want something from your pharmacea. All that is there is really yours, and your journey will not be either short or easy."

  "Thank you, Eadgyth," Wynne said. "I will take a few basic things, but I will leave the rest for you. You must take my place as Aelfdene's healer, my friend. I have filled a small book with all my recipes and their uses. It will be yours now."

  The two women returned to the house. Wynne gathered what she wanted from her pharmacea. Then, with the help of the others, Wynne's chest and the small chest containing Averel's things were brought out to the peddler's cart. Averel's nursemaid, Willa, looked most woebegone. Her little nose was red from her weeping.

  "Would you like to come with us, Willa?" Wynne asked the girl, who had been born and lived her entire life at Aelfdene.

  "If I could, lady. There is nought for me here," was the weepy reply.

  As the others had returned to the house, but for Eadgyth, Wynne said to Madoc, "Give me a silver penny, my lord, that I may purchase this girl."

  Digging into his pocket, Madoc drew forth the required coin and handed it to Eadgyth. "Tell your husband that Boda wanted the girl to continue looking after the child so that I might help with the wagon and the goods. That you refused to let Willa go for any less than a penny, believing Boda would not pay it," Madoc instructed her. "Your husband will undoubtedly be surprised you struck so good a bargain for her, and the little wench isn't even worth a ha'penny. He will, therefore, be pleased enough to ignore the fact you sold off his property."

  "You are not the half-wit," Eadgyth replied slowly, her voice filled with wonder. She peered closely at the creature she knew as Tovi. Then she looked at Wynne. "Is he fair beneath his disguise, Wynne?"

  "Aye," Wynne said shortly. "His face is fair."

  "Will you keep our secret, my lady Eadgyth?" Madoc asked her gently. "I have sought so long to find my wife and restore her to my side."

  "I will keep your secret, my lord," Eadgyth told him solemnly, "but you must not think it is because I do not love Caddaric Aethelmaere, or because I am a disobedient wife. I both love and honor my husband, though I know he is not the most admirable of men. Wynne is my friend, and Caddaric's actions toward her have been wrong. It is not my wifely duty, however, to tell my husband that he has returned Wynne to her own dear lord. Such knowledge, as you undoubtedly know, would not please him. Wynne has been like a fever in my husband's blood. The realization that he could not have his way with her hardened his heart and made him crueler than I have ever known him to be. It is better that he go on believing he has debased her and brought her low. Another defeat would be more than he could bear," Eadgyth finished quietly.

  "The care you show for your husband's peace of mind is most admirable, my lady," Madoc told her sincerely. "I think you a most wise and patient woman."

  Eadgyth smiled a small smile. "Go with God's good blessing," she said. Then she and Wynne hugged each other. "It is unlikely that we will meet again," Eadgyth said. "I am glad that this ends well despite Caddaric."

  "If you should ever need my help," Wynne told her, "you have but to get a message to Raven's Rock. I can never repay you for all your kindness." She hugged Eadgyth a final time. "God watch over you, my friend."

  Eadgyth turned away and reentered the house. To have stayed any longer would have caused suspicion. Wynne, her daughter in her arms, and Willa climbed into the cart while Einion and Madoc, in the disguises as Boda and Tovi, mounted the bench seat. Einion flapped the reins over the horse's back, and the cart lumbered out of the courtyard of Aelfdene onto the half-track that led to another obscured road that would lead them back into Wales. To the east the sky was beginning to glow with the promise of a bright new day.

  Chapter 19

  They had traveled five days from Aelfdene. Now certain that Caddaric had not followed after them in some warped change of heart, Madoc and Einion thought it safe to remove their disguises. Willa, who had been informed almost immediately of the truth, watched wide-eyed as they did so. Her admiration of Einion was ill-concealed. Wynne felt it necessary to tell the girl of Einion's wife, Megan.

  "Did you have to tell her quite so soon?" he grumbled at her.

  "It is not necessary that you seduce my daughter's nursemaid," Wynne told him tartly. "You have not stinted yourself of female company in the months you have been away from Raven's Rock, I am certain."

  Einion's eyebrows rose in surprise. She had matured. The baby who had grown into the sweet and lovely young girl was now a full-blown woman; and a woman, he suspected, who would have to be reckoned with. He wondered if Madoc had realized it yet, or if the prince would continue to treat his wife as a restored prize possession. Einion grinned to himself. Life was becoming interesting once again.

  "I'll not tell you I've been entirely true to Megan, except in my heart," he said plainly, "but then Megan is wise enough not to ask as long as I am a faithful husband when at Raven's Rock."

  "It's a wonder you haven't been killed by some enraged father or husband by now," Wynne said, and then she chuckled. "You have not changed, Einion, and I am glad. Everything else has changed."

  "Aye," he agreed. They sat before a small campfire in a sheltered glen where the1 little fire would not be seen by bandits. "You have changed," he told her.

  "I had no choice," she replied. "It was a matter of survival. It was not myself I thought of, but of the child I carried at the time."

  He nodded. "You and Madoc are yet at swords' points. Can you not heal the breach between you?"

  Wynne smiled at him. "I hope so, Einion," she said, "but Madoc refuses to understand how it was for me. Then there is the matter of our son which must be settled."

  "What is he like, the boy?" Einion asked. "Averel is nothing like you."

  "Nay, she is her father's daughter without a doubt," Wynne said with another smile, "and Arvel is his father's son. He is Madoc's mirror image. After a time I began to forget Madoc's face. I had but to look at his son to remember. He is healthy, and bright and quick for a lad his age. If Eadwine had been alive, he would have never let my son go, for he thought of him as his own," Wynne told Einion.

  "If Brys of Cai wanted the boy, my lady, he would have nonetheless found a way to steal him," Einion remarked fatalistically.

  "But why does he want my son?" Wynne wondered aloud.

  "He wants our son," said Madoc, joining them, "because his mind is warped, and he has some nefarious scheme festering within him."

  "How long will it take us to get to Cai?" Wynne asked.

  "We are not going to Cai, nor to Raven's Rock, dearling," he answered. "I am taking you and Averel to Gwernach. If I return home with you, then Brys will quickly learn of it. He will know that we will soon be coming to regain our son. To our small advantage, I have never known Brys to harm a little child, and this child is his nephew, his blood. I believe Arvel is safe as long as Brys does not suspect that we have been reunited. If he learns that, however, our son's life could be forfeit. We must plan carefully, for there will be but one chance for us. This I know in my heart."

  "Mercifully, you will not take as long to fetch our son as you did to fetch me," Wynne said sharply.

  "You
are not fair," he replied equally hotly. "I have explained over and over again that at first we did not know where you were, for Brys made it seem as if you had died in the forest. I did not believe that though but until I was certain, I did not know where to look. Then we spent months chasing after the Irish slaver, only to find that you had never left England. We were hampered by weather, and by the fact we had so much territory to cover. There are hundreds of thegns, and hundreds of halls in which we had to look for you. You could have been in any of them, Wynne."

  "I almost lost hope that you were coming," she told him.

  "You were quite safe it seems," Madoc said dryly. "Willa has gossiped to Einion the whole story of how your Saxon thegn fell madly in love with you at first sight. Did you fall madly in love with him?"

  "I grew to love him," she told Madoc honestly, "for he was a good and kind man. Was it necessary for me to cease living because you had disappeared again from my life, Madoc?" Wynne demanded sharply. "I had Arvel to think of, and his safety was paramount. I think I probably would have died in those early months had it not been for Eadwine's patience and kindness; and the realization that I must go on for my child's sake if not for my own. Would that have pleased you? The tender memory of love lost? Would you have followed me once more into another moment in time that we be reunited again? Love, I have come to realize, is not all nobility and purity of passion, Madoc. Love is both laughter and tears. Sorrow and pain. Giving as well as yearning for. You must learn that if we are ever to be happy."

  "You have changed so," he said, and then he smiled at her, his blue eyes growing warm as he drank in her beauty. "You have always been the older soul, Wynne, and I a step behind. Teach me, dearling, that I may at least in this life race evenly with you."

  "I will teach you, my lord, but you must catch up with me, for I will not wait for you," Wynne said. Then she took his hand in hers and, raising it up, rubbed it against her cheek. "I have missed you, my lord. I am glad we are together."